


The Ties that Bind Us

by chains_archivist



Category: due South
Genre: Angst, BDSM, Boys in Chains, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-09
Updated: 2015-04-09
Packaged: 2018-03-22 00:50:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3708991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chains_archivist/pseuds/chains_archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>by Rushlight</p><p> Fraser turns to Ray for help in dealing with his special needs. <br/>Warnings: This story contains graphic depictions of BDSM, so if this kind of thing squicks you, then pray thee do not venture down this beaten path. (no pun intended)</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Ties that Bind Us

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Dusk, the archivist: this work was originally archived at [Boys in Chains](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Boys_in_Chains), which opened in 2000 as a multifandom archive for both fiction and art, but then sadly went offline in 2005. To bring the archive back, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in December 2014. Open Doors [posted an announcement](http://archiveofourown.org/admin_posts/1832) and e-mailed all creators about the move, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this author, please [contact the Open Doors committee](http://transformativeworks.org/contact/open%20doors).  
> \--  
> Author's Notes: Many thanks go to Beth and Jennie for the beta- reading.

Ray tightened his hands over the steering wheel, watching the shifting patterns of condensation move across the window in front of him as he drove. Outside the car, the night was black, and the conical beams of the headlights were filled with a flurry of falling snow.   
  
Beside him, Fraser was very still.   
  
"We did it, Benny," Ray said, hearing the forced cheerfulness in his voice and cringing from it. Nevertheless, he couldn't stop himself from saying, "No way the bastard's gonna fall on the mercy of the courts this time."   
  
Fraser didn't reply. He was staring out the window beside him, and his expression was impassive, illuminated in the fleeting columns of light that fell from the streetlamps they passed under.   
  
It had been a hard week, but as usual, they'd finally caught their man. Fraser, being his usual meticulous, gung-ho self, had been the key to the whole case. Ray certainly didn't mind sharing credit where credit was due, but he could tell that something about the past few days' events was bothering Fraser deeply.   
  
Never mind the fact that they'd both almost been killed. Again.   
  
Ray felt a chill pass through him, but he steadfastly refused to say anything further until he pulled up in front of Fraser's apartment and eased up beside the curb, letting the car fall into a subdued idle. Then, "I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"   
  
Still, Fraser didn't say anything, and he also made no move to open the car door. He shifted slightly in his seat, looking uncomfortable. "Ray, I..."   
  
Ray squeezed his eyes shut, not wanting to hear it even though he'd known for days now that this moment was inevitable. His fingers tightened even further around the steering wheel, until his knuckles ached. Under the dark covering of his gloves, he imagined his knuckles would be white, bone pressing hard against the thinly stretched skin.   
  
Strange how he always seemed to know in advance when Fraser was going to ask him for this, long before Fraser himself was. This moment had been a long time in coming, and he'd been seeing signs of it for weeks now.   
  
Even so, that didn't mean he had to like it.   
  
Fraser was looking at him now, and Ray deliberately kept his gaze focused on the window in front of him, keeping his attention firmly fixed on the snow that danced like a bevy of drunken sprites in the beams of the headlights. He didn't want to see the eyes that he knew were looking at him, didn't want to see the need he knew would be visible there.   
  
*Just go,* he wanted to say, and he knew that Fraser would obey him if he did. Fraser would go, without objection, and he would never mention this again.   
  
Ray didn't say a thing.   
  
Fraser seemed to collect himself visibly after a moment. "Ray," he said again, his voice lowering. And then, even softer still, "Please."   
  
Ray shivered, dropping his head forward to lean against his hands. God. He should know better by now than to think that he had any say in this whatsoever.   
  
"Fine," he said, his voice muffled against his arms, and Fraser relaxed, immediately set at ease by his acquiescence. The thought almost made Ray laugh out loud.   
  
God, they were a pair of twisted bastards, weren't they?   
  
Feeling strangely energized by this admission, Ray sat up and threw the car into gear. He pulled away from the curb with somewhat more speed than was strictly necessary, but Fraser made no comment on it. Which was a good thing, Ray thought, smiling grimly. He was in a dangerous enough mood as it was.   
  
Neither of them spoke as Ray drove toward the house he had on the outskirts of the city. The house actually belonged to a friend of his who was frequently out of town on business, and Ray looked after the upkeep of the place in his absence in return for being able to use it whenever he wanted. It was a perfect haven away from the prying eyes of the city, and both he and Fraser had become dependent on its relative anonymity over the past year, ever since they had become lovers. Ever since that cold, lonely night last November when Fraser had approached him, and told him what it was he needed.   
  
The memory started a dull heat burning beneath the surface of Ray's skin, warming him.   
  
He had fought it then, as he fought it now, but in the end, there was really no question that he would give in. Fraser had that kind of a hold on him, and it left him wondering sometimes just who the dominant person in this partnership really was. On the surface, the answer seemed obvious: he was the one who chose what they did and where they did it, and how much and for how long, while Fraser was the one who ... needed. So obviously, he was the one in control, right?   
  
The problem was, he didn't feel very much like he was in control of anything. Fraser asked, and he gave in, every single time. Even that first time, Fraser hadn't seemed to have any undue fear that Ray would refuse him.   
  
Damping down such uneasy thoughts, Ray pulled into the driveway of their safehouse and turned off the car, tensing as the steady rumble of the engine faded away into silence. As soon as the wipers stilled, snow began to collect on the windshield, obscuring his view of the outside.   
  
Fraser sat still and silent beside him, waiting.   
  
"Go inside," Ray said after a moment. "Wait for me."   
  
Fraser glanced at him briefly, an unreadable expression glimmering deep in his dark eyes. He took the single key Ray handed to him without comment, and then he nodded, turning obediently to leave.   
  
Ray shivered in the blast of icy air that swept in through the car door as Fraser opened it. Even after the door was closed again, the chill gripped him, sinking deep into his bones. Doing his best to ignore it, he fumbled in his coat pocket for his cell phone. He flipped it open with a brisk movement of his wrist and dialed.   
  
"Hey, Frannie," he said once his sister answered. "Tell Ma I'm not going to make it home tonight, all right? No, no, nothing's wrong, but Benny and I've got some leads to chase down that won't wait till morning. Yeah, I'll probably just crash at Benny's when we're done. Dief's holing up with some chick from IA, so if anyone calls, just tell her we'll pick him up in the morning, okay? Yeah, thanks. Give my love to Ma."   
  
He cut the connection and turned off the phone, sitting in silence in the rapidly growing darkness. As more and more snow piled up on the windows, it was cutting off more of the light from outside, leaving him with the impression that he was being buried alive. Shaking off the thought, he pushed open his door and stepped outside.   
  
One of the first warning signs of addiction was lying to your family to cover your habit, wasn't it? Was that what this was? An addiction? A Fraser-addiction? The thought made him laugh as he made his way around to the back of the car, and if the laughter had a bit of a strained ring to it, well, that wasn't too surprising, now was it? He jiggled the key into the frozen lock of the trunk and wondered if Dief had somehow known that they'd come to this point again. The damned wolf was a lot smarter than Ray commonly gave him credit for. Why else would he have refused to come home with them tonight?   
  
The trunk finally opened, and Ray reached in to push aside the heavy blanket that was draped over the small box at the very back of the storage space. His fingers felt numb as he dragged the box into view and hefted it out of the trunk, but of course that was just the cold, right?   
  
The trunk made a muffled echo as he slammed it shut, and then he was making his way toward the house, ducking his head against the thickly falling snow. Damn, it was cold out tonight, and he wondered for about the millionth time why he didn't just move to Malibu or San Diego or someplace that didn't have winter six months out of the year.   
  
As soon as he stepped inside, he shuffled the box onto his hip so he could hold it one-handed and lock the door behind him. Almost immediately, the snow that had collected on his face and in his hair began to melt, and he wiped a hand across his eyes irritably, wiping the tracks of icy moisture away.   
  
"Here, Ray."   
  
Ray felt a towel pressed lightly into his hand, and he took it gratefully, slipping his gloves off and stuffing them into his pockets as he used it to wipe off his face. Fraser had taken the liberty of resetting the temperature on the thermostat, and already, the warmth that blew in through the open vents in the walls was easing the chill he felt. Ray toweled his head off one-handed, and he had to admit that he felt markedly better by the time he was done.   
  
"Thanks." He set the box down on the edge of the couch and shrugged out of his coat, hanging it carefully on the rack by the door. He noticed that Fraser very deliberately did not look at the box as he did so.   
  
Fraser had already removed his own dark coat, and the buttons on his red serge glistened brightly in the light. He'd been wearing his hat outside, but his hair had gotten wet from the snow somehow regardless, and it curled damply over his forehead, giving him a somewhat disheveled appearance. His cheeks were flushed red from the cold -- or from something else entirely -- but he merely watched patiently as Ray finished hanging his coat, clasping his hands loosely behind his back as he waited.   
  
And he was so cool about this, wasn't he? This thought crossed Ray's mind with a fair amount of bitterness before he reminded himself that it was all an act. Sometimes Fraser got so lost inside his perfect Mountie persona that he needed a map to find his way out. It was something Ray had noticed long before they became lovers; how Fraser would work so hard at living up to those impossible ideals he set for himself, until there didn't seem to be much of *Fraser* left inside the Mountie at all. It was frightening to watch sometimes, and if Ray found it that disturbing, there was no telling how Fraser felt about it.   
  
It was this veneer of fragile perfection that he needed to find release from. That he needed Ray to help release him from.   
  
Ray turned from the coat rack finally and met Fraser's gaze. A muscle in Fraser's jaw jumped erratically as he swallowed, but other than that, his expression remained impassive.   
  
Ray smiled, but the expression had little humor in it. His heart was pounding, and he clenched his hands at his sides restlessly, but he knew there was nothing that could compel him to call a halt to what they were about to do. The thought was at once terrifying and freeing.   
  
"Go upstairs," he said quietly. When had his voice ever sounded so cold? "Take the box. Get the room ready, and fucking get yourself ready. I'll be up in a minute."   
  
Fraser swallowed again, hesitating for the barest of seconds before he moved to obey. Ray watched him go with a hungry sort of possessiveness, wondering at the heat that pounded through his veins. Why in hell did he find this so exciting? It was like playing with fire, having all that hard Mountie strength leashed at his command, knowing full well that Fraser could crush him completely without half trying. But he knew that Fraser never would. Because Fraser needed this, needed to have his controls stripped away like this. And Ray ... could do this for him.   
  
He'd never in a million years admit that he might want to do it.   
  
Ray knuckled at his eyes and leaned back against the wall behind him, trying to get his panicked breathing under control. In and out, in and out, nice and easy. He felt dizzy, nauseous, but that was familiar by now, at the start of these encounters. Right now, he felt that there was no way in hell he could possibly bring himself to do this, even though he knew full well that he would.   
  
Just as he'd done it each time before.   
  
He took a few minutes to tour through the bottom floor of the house, checking to make sure all the windows and doors were locked, doing his duty as temporary caretaker. The familiar motions helped him regain some semblance of control, and by the time he'd finished, he had his emotions firmly in hand once again. He started up the stairs with a feeling of inevitability.   
  
One of the things he loved best about this house was the fact that there was a fireplace in the master bedroom. Fraser had already started a sizeable blaze by the time Ray arrived, and it was the only light in the otherwise darkened room. The box was sitting unobtrusively on the end of the bed. Fraser had removed his uniform and folded it neatly over the top of the desk at the far wall, and he was standing naked in front of the tall window now, staring down at the shadowed yard behind the house. He did not move as Ray stepped into the room, although Ray had no doubt that he was aware of his presence.   
  
Ray stared for a moment, drinking in the sight in front of him. The firelight lapped gently at Fraser's smooth skin, giving it a ruddy cast. The shadows seemed to hug him possessively, outlining his cold beauty in vivid relief, painting each line and curve of him with decadent flair. Ray's mouth went dry, as it always did when he saw him like this. Most of the time when they made love together, it was far more innocent than this, and he let himself long for that kind of connection for a moment, wrestling with the desire to simply step up behind Fraser and touch him, love him, and coax Fraser into loving him in return.   
  
But that wasn't what they'd come here for. Ray was achingly hard now, and he rubbed at the dully pounding heat between his legs with one hand, letting his excitement build. He didn't believe that anyone could look at Fraser like this, standing there so open, so vulnerable, and not be turned on by it.   
  
"Turn around." His voice was barely audible in the stillness of the room, but Fraser obeyed him instantly.   
  
Fraser kept his gaze locked firmly on the floor, and there was no mistaking the redness in his cheeks now. His body was perfection incarnate, and his cock was already half-hard. This was always the most difficult part for him, baring himself in this way, waiting for it all to begin. Patience in these matters had never been one of his strong points, and Ray had learned early on how to draw out this moment between them.   
  
"Look at me."   
  
There was a moment's hesitation this time before Fraser obeyed him. Ray frowned at this minor disobedience, feeling his eyes narrow, but refrained from commenting on it. Fraser's eyes were dark in the glow of the firelight, and they flickered with emotions that Ray had no real name for.  
  
Very slowly, Ray began to move toward him. He stopped directly in front of Fraser and reached up to touch his face lightly, noting the slight tensing of Fraser's muscles as he reached toward him.   
  
"Tell me you want this." They were about the same height, so it was easy enough to meet Fraser's gaze evenly. Ray tightened his fingers around the sides of Fraser's jaw, holding his chin steady when he would have turned away.   
  
The expression in Fraser's eyes turned slightly despairing, but Ray refused to back down. This was a part of their ritual, too. If Fraser couldn't bring himself to ask for it, then there was no way Ray would be able to bring himself to go through with this. They both knew that, and so it wasn't a surprise that Fraser's internal struggle was short.   
  
"I want it," Fraser said, his breath a soft warmth against Ray's face. His eyes glanced down, and then up again. His voice lowered to a near-whisper. "Please."   
  
A delicate shudder passed through Ray at that, and he stepped away from Fraser hurriedly, releasing him. He was shaking now, half in desire and half in terror, as he moved toward the bed and reached into his pocket for the small silver key on the end of his key chain. The key fit the lock on the box easily, and it opened with the faintest scritch of its hinges. The bracings on the edges of the lid felt cold to his touch.   
  
He reached inside the box and pulled out a pair of wool-lined leather cuffs. When he turned, he saw that Fraser's eyes had brightened considerably, glowing avidly in the light of the fire. There was a hunger in them now that Ray found damn near irresistible.   
  
"Turn around," he said. His voice was husky.   
  
Fraser obeyed without hesitation this time, and he crossed his wrists behind his back without even needing to be told. Ray bit back a moan and wound the soft leather around Fraser's wrists firmly, pulling them tight enough so they wouldn't chafe, but not so tight that they cut into the skin.   
  
Fraser made a discontented sound in the back of his throat when Ray finished, dropping his head forward onto his chest. Ray glared at him, tightening his fingers around Fraser's wrist warningly.  
  
"I'm not going to fucking cut off your circulation," he snarled, feeling suddenly furious at the need that Fraser displayed so wantonly. Damn it, Fraser wanted to be hurt tonight, and he was showing that in every subliminal way he possibly could. Again, Ray wondered just who was the one in control here, and the thought terrified him.   
  
Forcing himself to stay calm, he slid his hand up the bare slope of Fraser's back, feeling the muscles there tense and flex under his palm. When he reached the back of Fraser's head, Fraser tipped his head back into his hand obligingly, rubbing up cat- like into the caress. God, this man was beautiful, just pure sensuality when he got like this, and Ray took a moment to just admire him, enjoying the desire that coursed like liquid fire through his veins.   
  
He tightened his fingers without warning in Fraser's hair, startling a gasp out of him. A swift tug, and Fraser was on his knees in front of him, arching back into the unyielding pressure of Ray's grip.   
  
Very calmly, Ray knelt down behind him and leaned in to lick at the edge of his ear. "You are not the one in control here," he whispered, letting the full weight of the anger he felt carry through in the words. He was gratified to feel Fraser shiver in his grip, although he didn't try to pull away. "Do you understand that?"   
  
Fraser was staring up at the ceiling now because his head was wrenched back so far, and Ray could see the frantic bob of his throat as he swallowed. "Yes," he said hoarsely.   
  
Ray nodded, satisfied. He loosened his hold on Fraser's hair and rubbed soothingly at his shoulder with his other hand, trying to ease the tension out of him. "Good." Unable to resist, he leaned in to lap at the exposed curve of Fraser's shoulder, wanting to taste the thin sheen of sweat he could see glistening on his skin. He sank his teeth in lightly, smiling at the low sound that Fraser made in response.   
  
After another moment, Ray stood up, wiping his shaking hands against the thighs of his pants. Fraser didn't move. He looked *good* kneeling there, wrists bound firmly behind his back, head bowed submissively, and Ray could see by the movements of his shoulders that he was breathing deeply. Ray felt his own breaths lengthening in unconscious empathy.   
  
"Turn around."   
  
Fraser obeyed with fluid grace, and he looked up into Ray's face with pleading eyes. Ray knew they were moving at a much slower pace than Fraser would have chosen, but even that was enough to give him a perverse kind of thrill.   
  
He reached out to twine his fingers in Fraser's hair again, and Fraser leaned into his touch. Ray took a step forward, tugging gently, and Fraser followed his lead immediately, eagerly, leaning in to nuzzle at the bulge in his pants, breathing out hotly across the hardened flesh beneath.   
  
"Jesus." Ray closed his eyes, tightening his grip in Fraser's hair unconsciously as Fraser mouthed his erection wetly through the cloth, sliding his tongue enticingly along the hardness of his zipper and *pressing*, trying to fit the tip of Ray's hardened erection into his mouth. Ray moaned out loud, rocking forward into the touch, loving the feel of Fraser's hair sliding like silk through his fingers, loving the feel of the subdued shivers that moved beneath the surface of that warm, soft skin.   
  
"That's enough." Ray's voice was hoarse, and Fraser pulled away reluctantly, gazing up at him again with liquid eyes, letting his expression alone ask for the things he couldn't bring himself to say. Such beautiful eyes, ringed by such long, dark lashes. Ray stroked his fingers along Fraser's cheek in an irrepressible gesture of affection, and saw the desire in them darken noticeably.   
  
Ray smiled, showing his teeth. Fraser's cock was fully hard now, hard and ready, proof of the desire Fraser had for him. Or at least for what he had to offer.   
  
"You're so needy," Ray said, cupping his hand at the back of Fraser's head, refusing to let him turn away. Fraser met his gaze steadily even as the color rose in his cheeks at Ray's words. "So desperate. You'd do anything I asked you to right now, wouldn't you? Anything at all, just to get what you want." He chuckled lightly, stroking his thumb up across Fraser's jaw. "I could hire a whole troupe of people to come up here and fuck your perfect ass, and you wouldn't raise a word of protest, would you?"   
  
Fraser's eyes widened, and Ray felt a surge of something uncomfortably close to exhilaration as he saw the fear in that avid gaze. Did Fraser honestly think he would do such a thing? Surely he had to know that Ray was far too jealous to share him arbitrarily.   
  
Ray slid his other hand down to Fraser's shoulder and grasped him firmly, tightening his grip until he saw the wince that deepened the line between Fraser's brows. There were going to be bruises tomorrow, but there was nothing to be done about that, really. "Would you?" he repeated, letting his voice drop dangerously.   
  
Fraser's eyes glistened in the firelight. "No," he whispered.   
  
Ray felt a shiver of pure terror arc through him. Power like this was frightening, addictive. It excited him. He stroked Fraser's cheek again, lightly. "Who do you belong to, Benny?"   
  
This time, there was no hesitation. "You, Ray."   
  
"And you're going to do everything I tell you to?"   
  
"Yes."   
  
"And who's the one in control here?"   
  
"You are, Ray."   
  
"Damn straight, Benny. I'll bet you want me to touch you right about now."   
  
Fraser swallowed again, looking up at him with an expression of open entreaty. "Yes, Ray."   
  
"You want me to touch your cock?"   
  
"Yes." A whisper.   
  
"You want me to make you come?"   
  
Fraser closed his eyes, shivering. "Yes. Please."   
  
"Then get on the fucking bed."   
  
Fraser shuddered, once, and his eyes fluttered closed for a moment before he obeyed, standing with fluid grace even though his hands were tied behind his back. Dear God, the man was amazing. Ray watched him hungrily as he moved toward the bed, enjoying the sight of those smoothly rippling muscles. Beautiful. It was like having his very own leopard, chained up in his room. Deadly and beautiful. What an intoxicating combination.   
  
Fraser moved to the side of the bed and rolled onto it, coming to rest on his back and staring up at the ceiling. He'd already pulled the coverlet down before Ray arrived, baring the soft, cream-colored sheets. They were pale against his flushed skin, highlighting the arousal that seemed to color him from head to toe.   
  
Ray felt his breath catch as he moved to stand at the foot of the bed, letting his eyes trail over his ... what? Lover? Usually, he wouldn't have a problem thinking of Benny in those terms, but tonight, the word didn't seem to entirely apply. So what, then? His slave? His prey?   
  
Dear God, he wished the thought of this didn't make him so very hot.   
  
He reached out to cup a hand over Fraser's ankle, watching for the telltale flinch and smiling as Fraser reacted reflexively to his touch, even though he never removed his eyes from the ceiling. No matter how much Fraser wanted this, he couldn't seem to let go of his fear completely. That fear was intoxicating.   
  
Ray reached into the box at the end of the bed and pulled out the things he needed, then toed out of his shoes and left them lying where they fell as he climbed up onto the bed. There was something supremely decadent about being fully clothed while Fraser was lying naked in front of him, and he couldn't resist the urge to bend down and trail his tongue across one of Fraser's peaked nipples, drawing a soft sigh out of him. He slid one hand up the inside of Fraser's thigh, and Fraser spread his legs obligingly, lifting his hips slightly to press forward into the caress.   
  
Ray laughed softly. "Needy little whore," he accused fondly, fitting the cock ring carefully over Fraser's erection, making sure it was fitted snugly before he pulled away. Fraser moaned faintly once Ray's hand was gone, moving his hips restlessly against the sheets. Ray pinched the inside of his thigh lightly. "Jeez, Benny, you're the sexiest thing I've ever seen."   
  
In the beginning of their relationship, Ray hadn't bothered using a cock ring during these encounters, trusting Fraser's iron will to keep himself in check. But that required him to use too many of the controls they were trying to erode here, and Ray had quickly learned the benefits of ... outside aid.   
  
Fraser still avoided eye contact, not wanting to antagonize him. He lifted his chin without having to be told as Ray slid the dark leather collar around his neck, snapping the silver buckle shut firmly at the front. Ray trailed his fingers down Fraser's throat when he was done, enjoying the shivers that Fraser did his best to suppress.   
  
Ray leaned down and brushed his lips lightly over Fraser's then, breathing in the scent of him. "Good boy," he whispered, running a hand back over Fraser's hair. Fraser shivered lightly, either from the caress or the epithet, Ray didn't know.   
  
Slow heat coiled sinuously in Ray's belly as he nuzzled under Fraser's jaw, letting his tongue flicker out to taste the cold metal buckle at his throat. He loved seeing Fraser collared like this. It seemed more than just a visible symbol of his mastery; it was a pact between them, freely offered and freely accepted. A tangible promise that Fraser would do what he wanted, and in return Ray would give him what he needed.   
  
But despite Fraser's willingness to submit to his rule now, Ray couldn't let himself forget those earlier hesitations. Giving his voice the faintest touch of steel, he leaned in close to Fraser's ear and murmured, "I want to make sure we're clear here, Benny. You have no say in what we do here. You'll be lucky if I let you come at all tonight."   
  
Fraser's eyes shifted to meet his at that, and Ray grinned inwardly at the slow-swirling panic he saw in them. God, this man was beautiful.   
  
"On your knees." Ray could hear the satisfaction in his voice, pleased with the thought that Fraser could have no doubt who was the one in control. He slid back and watched as Fraser moved quickly to obey him, grunting slightly as he drew up off the bed, using his shoulder for leverage against the soft mattress as he struggled to his knees.   
  
Fraser sat back on his heels and lowered his gaze, panting lightly as he concentrated on keeping his balance. His cock was still hard, leaking copiously at the tip, and Ray couldn't resist the urge to reach out and touch it as he leaned in to kiss him. Fraser's mouth opened sweetly under his, offering everything and demanding nothing. His cock was hot and heavy in Ray's hands, smooth as silk as Ray's fingers caressed him. A faint moan vibrated against Ray's lips as he pulled his hand away.   
  
"Stay just like this," Ray told him, rubbing his face up against Fraser's in a gesture of silent comfort. Despite his initial willfulness, Fraser was doing remarkably well tonight. "Don't move."   
  
He slid off the bed then and reached into the box again, rummaging around through their many toys until he found what he wanted. The heavy flogger fit comfortably into his hand, fitting his palm with the ease of long familiarity, and he'd swear that it felt warm to the touch. The dark chocolate leather seemed to absorb the firelight, giving it a ruddy cast as he shook out the numerous plaits.   
  
Ray tossed it onto the bed behind Fraser and rolled up his sleeves, pushing them up above his elbows as he moved around to the side of the bed. Fraser's back was smooth and welcoming in front of him, crossed by the faintest suggestion of scars from their last ... encounter. The sight excited him; Ray reached out to touch Fraser's shoulders, wanting to feel that warm skin under his hands, and he massaged deeply, trying to ease the tension out of them both.   
  
"Relax," he said, and he was relieved when Fraser obeyed him, shoulders drooping instantly under his hands. Ray leaned in to drop a kiss between Fraser's shoulder blades, biting lightly at the base of his neck in reward. Fraser's head was bowed, his eyes squeezing tightly shut as he leaned back into Ray's touch. "Just let it all go, okay? Trust me."   
  
Fraser let out his breath in a quiet sigh. "I trust you, Ray."   
  
Ray smiled, hit by a surge of love so strong it took his breath away. God, he loved this man. "Okay, then. Let's do this."   
  
He pulled back, distancing himself both physically and mentally as he reached for the flogger. His heart jumped when his fingers closed around the smooth handle, and he closed his eyes for a moment against the flood of sheer adrenaline that coursed through him. There was nothing in the world as invigorating as this, as having Fraser trust him like this. That thought was foremost in his mind as he shifted his weight and let fly with the first blow.   
  
The blow landed harder than Fraser was expecting; he made a soft sound of surprise and shifted slightly to maintain his balance. A split second later, his jaw clenched, and Ray could tell by the set of his shoulders that he was steeling himself not to cry out again.   
  
And that was exactly the kind of reflexive attempt at control they were trying to do away with here. Ray was tempted to gag him, to make it easier on him, but he knew he couldn't do that. He wanted Fraser to be free to use his safeword if he felt the need, even if he'd only done so once in all the time they'd been together.   
  
So Ray worked to absolve him of that control in the only way he knew how. He set up a steady rhythm with the flogger, striking a clear pattern across Fraser's shoulders and upper back, letting the leather tails sting forward around the sides of his bound arms occasionally. Fraser rocked gently with each blow, picking up Ray's rhythm and then moving with it, giving himself up entirely to the soft, hissing slap of the leather.   
  
Ray paused after a few minutes to let them both catch their breaths. Fraser's skin was turning a nice shade of rosy pink, and it looked hot to the touch, but not one of his blows had actually broken the skin. They were both panting heavily now, and Fraser took the opportunity to shift his knees further apart to strengthen his balance as Ray moved again to the box.   
  
Ray had become a bit of a connoisseur of pain over the past year, and he had his own preferred method of advancing through a scene. The flogger worked well as a warm-up, getting them both into the required state of mind, but it did little in the way of practical exertion for either of them. He dropped it offhandedly onto the bed and grabbed the handle of the cat o' nine, shaking out the long tails as he retook his place beside the bed. Fraser's eyes remained downcast.   
  
Ray barely paused this time before he let loose with the whip, enjoying the sharp inhalation that Fraser made as the flattened cat-tails made contact with his skin. This was a much nastier implement than the last one, and Ray could feel the difference in the stinging impact that vibrated up his arm each time he landed a blow. Fraser was breathing heavily now, and he made a kind of muffled gasp each time the cat hit him. Ray set up a relentless rhythm, and it took a moment for Fraser to match him in it, but then they were breathing in almost perfect unison, in on the upswing, out hard on each downswing, and Fraser murmured softly in time with each sharp slap the tails made against his back.   
  
There were marks now, narrow little welts that decorated the backs of Fraser's shoulders in parallel rows, vividly white against his flushed skin. Ray tried to alter his pattern creatively, wanting to mark each part of that beautiful back equally, as Fraser grunted and sweated beneath him, clinging with instinctive stubbornness to his hard-won control, hanging on by his fingernails. And Fraser had never looked as beautiful as this, out there in the field, in the real world where he had to be *the Mountie*, the pure embodiment of perfection. There was something almost sacred about watching him lose control like this, piece by piece, mentally kicking and screaming every step of the way but begging Ray to help him, to help carry him down this path.   
  
Ray shifted his stance without warning on the next upswing and shifted his aim downward, landing the next blow across the unmarked curve of Fraser's ass. Caught by surprise, Fraser nearly buckled, but he caught himself at the last second and shifted upright again. Ray could see the tense clench of his jaw as he turned his head in brief profile, but then he was facing forward once again.   
  
"Let go, Benny," Ray said, letting the words fuel his next swing, and this one cut across the backs of Fraser's thighs, drawing several thin stripes across that perfect skin. But Fraser was ready for him this time, and he barely faltered. Frustrated by Fraser's complacency, Ray increased the force of his swings, and he was gratified to hear Fraser's breath hitch on a snuffling moan as the leather marked his skin.   
  
Ray stopped then, breathing hard, and moved around to where he could see Fraser's face. There were tear tracks on Fraser's cheeks, and his face was flushed, and the sweat that pooled at his hairline was making his hair curl damply against the sides of his face. He was gasping hard for breath, his shoulders heaving, and as Ray watched, another tear broke free of the prison of his lashes to make its way down his cheek.   
  
Ray touched Fraser's arm lightly, waiting until he had his attention before speaking. "We good to go?" he asked softly, needing Fraser to tell him again that he was all right with this.   
  
Fraser smiled shakily at him. "Yes, Ray." He took in a deep breath and then let it out slowly. "Please." His voice was hoarse.   
  
Ray squeezed his elbow and nodded. Dropping the cat onto the bed, he moved back around behind Fraser and reached for his wrists, deftly unbuckling the cuffs that held them bound. As soon as Fraser's hands were freed, Ray rubbed the circulation back into them carefully, leaning in to brush his lips lightly across Fraser's shoulder in a gentle caress. Fraser sighed, relaxing in stages, and Ray smiled, rubbing his thumbs hard into the callused palms, massaging the base of each finger individually. "Good?" he murmured.   
  
"Mmm-hmm." Fraser was all but humming now, and Ray chuckled, patting the side of his thigh.  
  
"Hands and knees, Benny."   
  
Instantly, Fraser tensed again, and there was a prolonged hesitation before he obeyed. Ray didn't comment on it, however, knowing that Fraser needed time to mentally prepare himself for what was coming next. He watched patiently as that long body stretched out in front of him, hands bracing against the mattress as Fraser shifted his weight onto all fours, baring the stripes on his back and thighs.   
  
And it was too much, suddenly, to see all that beauty and not comment on it. "You're beautiful, Benny," he said, smoothing a hand over the side of Fraser's hip, feeling that smooth skin slide beneath his palm. Ray was achingly hard now, his cock pounding almost painfully in time with his pulse, and he let his breath out hard at the thought of what they still had yet to do. He slid his hand around under Fraser's hip to feel the hardness he knew would be there, and Fraser let out a long moan as Ray's fingers closed around his cock, dropping his head forward as he arched his hips back pleadingly.   
  
Ray chuckled, rubbing his cheek against the heat of Fraser's lower back, breathing in the sharp musky scent of his arousal. He stroked Fraser's erection hard, wanting to hear him moan like that again. "Slut," he said fondly, grinning into the soft, smooth skin of Fraser's back, and kissed him lightly.   
  
Fraser arched against him. "Yes," he whispered.   
  
Ray shuddered, feeling Fraser's easy acquiescence slide deep inside him. "Slut," he said again, with more heat this time. He closed his fist hard over Fraser's erection, stroking him, wanting to feel him shake like that, just like that.   
  
"Your slut," Fraser agreed, and his voice was so far removed from what Ray was used to hearing during the day that it was hardly recognizable. He rocked his hips slowly into Ray's hand, moaning deep in his chest. "Yours, Ray."   
  
*Mine.* Ray felt as if a fire had been lit just underneath the surface of his skin. He pushed away from Fraser none too gently, relishing the cry of protest Fraser made when Ray's hand left his erection, and then he was digging in the box again, looking for the tool that would end this for them both. Fraser may have the benefit of the cock ring to keep him in line, but Ray knew that he personally wouldn't be lasting much longer. The needful ache between his legs had gone far beyond discomfort now, and he rubbed at it absently, willing himself to wait just a short while longer.   
  
He was shaking as he uncoiled the sinuous length of the tomcat that lay at the very bottom of the box. This whip was much larger than the others, patterned after the historic convict disciplinary whips used in Australia when it first began as a Penal Colony. Nearly four feet long, it was half single-tail whip and half cat o' nine, with nine tightly braided cat-tails that looked undeniably vicious just hanging there motionless in the glow of the firelight. The thing seemed alive in his hand, coiling sinuously at his feet as he shifted his grip on the handle. He remembered vividly the time when Fraser had first shown it to him, and told him this was what he needed. Ray had objected heatedly, unwilling to use anything so obviously torturous on the man that he loved, but Fraser had insisted. And, as always, Ray had given in.   
  
He rubbed a hand slowly over Fraser's hip, wanting to reassure him. Fraser was shaking almost imperceptibly under his palm, but his head was down again so Ray couldn't see his face. Ray breathed hard for several moments, just touching him, trying to deny the fact that seeing Fraser turned on and terrified like this was the most erotic thing he had ever experienced.   
  
"Ready?" he asked, so soft that Fraser might not even have heard him.   
  
It was several moments before Fraser replied. "Ready," he whispered, just as softly.   
  
Ray nodded, watching him closely. "You remember your safeword?"   
  
Fraser's fists clenched tight around the sheets at that, but he nodded. "Yes."   
  
"Good." Ray patted Fraser's side lightly and moved back behind him again. He hefted the slender leather whip, feeling his pulse race at the soft susurration it made against the carpet as he moved, and took up his position again beside the bed. Once there, he stood perfectly still, waiting for several drawn-out seconds just for the guilty pleasure of watching Fraser tense slowly in frustrated anticipation.   
  
Then, without warning, he shifted his weight to his front foot and let the whip fly. It impacted with Fraser's back with a loud *crack* that seemed to echo in the stillness of the air.   
  
Fraser howled.   
  
Ray watched with avid excitement as Fraser arched his back, hips thrusting forward into empty air as his entire body shuddered with the force of the blow. *God*, he looked good like this, he looked so, *so* good like this, and Ray swiped a hand across his eyes to wipe the stinging sweat away as he watched the thin welts rise up across Fraser's smooth skin, vividly white at first and then swiftly turning an angry red with rising blood.   
  
The tomcat was a vicious weapon, and Ray knew from experience that it was the quickest way to wear away at the walls Fraser hid behind. After the second blow, Fraser was sobbing openly, too far gone now to rein in the hoarse cries that exploded out of him as the whip impacted against his over-sensitized skin. Ray paused a moment to catch his breath before he let loose again, and the sound of Fraser's answering scream echoed in the room.   
  
"That's it, Benny. Talk to me. Let it all out." Ray was panting hard now from sheer exertion as he moved, drinking in the sight of the thin scores of blood that rose on Fraser's back as he hit him again, and again, and again. It was hard work tearing down the walls Fraser set for himself, but Ray reveled in it, riding an adrenaline high as he lashed out, scoring that perfect skin with his own distinctive mark as he listened to the music of Fraser's cries.   
  
There was nothing at all of Fraser the Mountie left here now; there was only Fraser the man, and it was a beautiful, beautiful sight. Ray trusted Fraser to use his safeword if he truly felt he couldn't take anymore, but it looked like they'd gone as far as they needed to tonight. Ray reluctantly pulled himself back from the edge of the high he'd been riding and dropped the whip onto the carpet with a sense of profound relief, feeling the residual buzz of excitement still sizzling through his veins.   
  
He slid up onto the bed and waited for Fraser to realize it was over, not wanting to touch him until those last, reflexive tremors had left him. After a moment, he reached out and touched the side of Fraser's face, feeling the tears there slide warm and wet beneath his fingers. Fraser turned to look at him with glistening eyes, and Ray felt his heart clench, hit by a tangle of emotions so strong it took his breath away -- lust and love and pride and need, all rolled up into one vicious, possessive ache deep inside him. Unable to hold himself back any longer, he cupped Fraser's face in both hands and leaned in to kiss him with a hunger that threatened to burn him alive.   
  
Fraser responded to him eagerly, openly, muffling his whimpers against Ray's mouth as if he were drowning in him. Ray slid his fingers back into Fraser's hair and held him, soothing him through the final aftershocks that shivered beneath his skin, knowing he had to be hurting in every part of his body. But it was equally obvious that Fraser was loving every second of it, and his kisses were filled with heartfelt gratitude, and triumph, and love.   
  
Fraser's lips moved against his. "Please," he whispered, and Ray had to pull back slightly to look at him. There was something suspiciously close to worship shining in Fraser's eyes.   
  
"What, Benny?" Ray said, stroking soothingly over the side of his neck.   
  
But Fraser only pressed his lips together and shook his head, lowering his gaze. Ray sighed and sat back on his heels, knowing that Fraser's ingrained prudishness wouldn't let him say the words aloud. Keeping one hand on Fraser's head to soothe him, he reached for the box a final time, fumbling around inside for the tube of Astroglide they kept there.   
  
Fraser's eyes seemed to be glowing with an inner light when Ray set the tube down on the bed and came back to kneel beside him. Ray leaned up to pull off his shirt, and he could practically feel the adoration in that gaze trailing over his heated skin. He shimmied out of the rest of his clothes in record time, all too aware of the heat that was radiating off of his lover's body.   
  
Fraser remained on his hands and knees where Ray had left him, but his eyes trailed over Ray hungrily, and when he met Ray's eyes, his gaze was full of quiet pleading. He hardly seemed the same man that Ray had driven here with at the start of the evening; he looked wanton, decadent, lost and humbled and *wanting*. The sight took Ray's breath away.   
  
Ray touched his chin, tipping Fraser's head up to look at him. "What do you want?" he asked. He stroked across Fraser's cheek with his thumb soothingly.   
  
Fraser's eyes glistened with the echo of unshed tears, and he shook his head slightly. "I--" He trailed off, obviously not knowing how to answer.   
  
Ray tightened his grip around Fraser's chin. "Do you want to suck me?"   
  
The light in Fraser's eyes flared. "Yes," he said, his voice deepening.   
  
"Do you want me to fuck you?"   
  
Fraser closed his eyes tightly. "Yes," he said again. This time, he couldn't seem to keep himself from arching into Ray's touch.   
  
"What do you *want*, Fraser?" Ray's voice was sharp.   
  
Fraser shook his head again. "Anything," he whispered. "Everything. Anything you want to give me, Ray. *Please*."   
  
Ray shivered, even though the room was very warm. A surge of mingled love and frustration washed through him at Fraser's continued stubbornness. Lowering his voice still further, he said, "Tell me what you want, Benny."   
  
Fraser shuddered, hard, from head to toe, and his head dropped forward in defeat. "Fuck me, Ray," he said, letting his breath out in a heavy sigh. The words sounded especially decadent coming from his perfect mouth. "I want you to fuck me."   
  
And it seemed that they had at last, finally, reached the point where they needed to be. Ray sighed and rubbed his cheek against Fraser's in relief, feeling Fraser's mouth open beseechingly against the side of his face, tasting him, seducing him. He shivered and moved around behind Fraser a final time, smoothing his hands lightly over that beautiful skin, eyeing the patchwork of newly won scores on his back with a hungry eye. He touched Fraser's ass lightly, and Fraser rocked back against him, humming slightly under his breath. Ray smiled, enjoying this sensuous version of Fraser, this Fraser who wasn't afraid to ask for what he wanted.   
  
He slicked up his fingers with a huge dollop of the Astroglide, and then he slid his fingers into Fraser's cleft, feeling for the opening there on instinct alone as he leaned down to trail his tongue across the largest of the welts on Fraser's back. Fraser gasped at the contact and immediately pressed his hips back against him, and Ray grinned, pushing two of his fingers inside Fraser's body without any further hesitation.   
  
Fraser moaned, long and low, and rocked against him in a slow, sexy rhythm that set Ray's heart to pounding. Ray twisted his fingers to make sure Fraser was well-coated inside, massaging gently. The time for pain was past; he wanted this to be good for Fraser, wanted to give him everything he was asking for and more. After a few moments, he pulled his fingers out again, ignoring the soft sound of dismay Fraser made at his withdrawal.   
  
"Love you," Ray whispered, gripping hard on Fraser's hips as he moved in close behind him, and he closed his eyes at the sheer, unbridled ecstasy of the sensations that washed through him as he slid slowly into Fraser's body. It felt like coming home, and he felt suddenly that he wanted to crawl right up inside of Fraser and never leave, wanted to just make a home here and be a part of him forever. God, Fraser was so hot, so tight, and Ray froze for a moment, not wanting it to be over too soon, holding his breath as he listened to the runaway cadence of his pulse pounding in his ears.   
  
"Ray." Fraser's voice was a tenuous plea. He pressed back insistently against Ray, his whole body shaking, and that was more than Ray could stand. He slid in the rest of the way in one smooth thrust, and his low moan echoed Fraser's as their bodies joined together.   
  
"God," Ray gasped, and it seemed impossible then not to move, not to find that familiar rhythm again and have Fraser match him for it, only in pleasure this time, instead of pain. Fraser moaned again beneath him, louder now than when he'd been under the cat, and Ray moved his hands to Fraser's shoulders, anchoring himself as he slammed home again and again into the willing sheath of Fraser's body.   
  
And still Fraser took everything Ray had to offer, and offered everything he had to give in return. Ray felt as if someone had gripped hard around the base of his spine and *squeezed*, and he shouted hoarsely as he rode the hot body beneath him, feeling the pleasure start to coil sinuously in his lower back, tingling down with increasing intensity into the balls of his feet. He knew there was no way it could possibly last after the built-up tension of the evening, but he did his best to hold off his inevitable climax, wanting to make this moment last, wanting to draw it out and do his best to make it last forever.   
  
Fraser's moaning had tapered off to a series of strangled sobs now, and Ray reached down underneath their bodies to cup Fraser's heavy balls in his hand, enjoying the sounds this rewarded him with, enjoying the renewed shuddering of the body in his arms. He fingered the cock ring teasingly, and Fraser immediately bucked against him, erupting into a torrent of frenzied pleading, all pride forgotten. Ray reveled in the sound of curses and gasps and harsh, gasping pleas that spilled off of Fraser's tongue, knowing that he had been the one to do this, been the one to free Fraser to be this way.   
  
He removed the cock ring with a twist of his fingers, and Fraser's entire body jumped wildly in his arms, echoed a moment later by the ragged scream Fraser made as he climaxed, hot come spurting down over Ray's hand and onto the mattress beneath them. The combined sensual assault of sight, smell, and sound hit Ray like a nuclear blast, and he followed almost immediately, barely aware of the harsh cry he made as his hips slammed forward a final time against Fraser's ass, and the world seemed to white out around him.   
  
He came to a moment later to find himself curled in against Fraser's side on the bed. Fraser was lying on his stomach beside him, eyes closed, head resting comfortably on his folded arms. He was breathing deeply, and there was the faintest hint of a smile on his lips.   
  
Ray wanted nothing more than to sink back down beside him and join him in sleep, but his conscience forbade it. Shock was slowly moving in to replace his earlier euphoria, like a splash of icy water sliding sinuously into his veins. Clenching his teeth hard, he pushed up onto one elbow and took his first sane look at Fraser's back since the evening'd begun.   
  
"Jesus Christ," he murmured.   
  
And now the guilt was stirring, *now*, when it couldn't do either of them a damn bit of good. A flutter of panic hit him, that he had done this, that he had been capable of doing this, but then Fraser's eyes were opening, and Ray found himself staring down into the sleepy, hypnotic, smoky gaze that haunted both his dreams and his waking hours.   
  
Fraser smiled up at him. "Thank you, Ray."   
  
Ray looked away, unwilling to accept the words, but then Fraser was reaching for him, holing on to him and leaning in to flutter soft kisses across the planes of his face.   
  
"Thank you," Fraser said again, and Ray had to laugh at that, because it was so rare to see Fraser laid so emotionally bare, open in a way that he only seemed to achieve after these types of scenes.   
  
"You're welcome." Ray smiled wryly and dropped his gaze again to Fraser's back. He reached out tentatively to touch him. "Does it hurt?"   
  
Fraser looked amused. "Yes, Ray." He stretched sensuously against the sheets, as if savoring the sensation.   
  
Ray frowned. "I'm sorry, Benny."   
  
Something in Fraser's eyes darkened at that. "Do you really hate doing this?" he asked, meeting Ray's gaze seriously.   
  
Ray wanted to say yes, but he knew it would be a lie. "I ... I don't know why I keep doing it," he said instead.   
  
Fraser regarded him levelly. "You do it because I ask you to. Because I need you to. Because you love me." He looked as if he was going to say something more, but decided against it.   
  
And there was really nothing Ray could say to that. So he simply leaned in and kissed him, hard and deep, tangling his fingers in the hair at the back of Fraser's head.   
  
"Let's go get you taken care of," he said, and Fraser nodded.   
  
The bathroom off the master bedroom was a sumptuously appointed chamber, and one of the many features it boasted was a delightfully decadent Roman tub. Ray started the water running while Fraser moved to stand in front of the large mirror situated over the double sink. He was moving stiffly, but other than that, he seemed to be doing all right.   
  
"God," Fraser muttered, and Ray looked up from where he was crouched beside the tub, testing the temperature of the water. "I look like hell."   
  
Ray smirked and moved to stand behind him. "You look beautiful," he said honestly, meeting Fraser's gaze in the mirror.   
  
Fraser smiled at him, pausing in the act of smoothing back a sweat-dampened tuft of hair. The ligature mark on his wrist was vividly pink against his pale skin. He looked flushed, and exhausted, and well-used, and Ray was being perfectly honest when he thought that there was nothing he'd ever seen that could compare with this man's beauty.   
  
"Come on, let's get you in the tub." Ray tugged on Fraser's arm, and Fraser followed him meekly.   
  
Fraser hissed when he stepped into the bath water, even though Ray had been careful not to make it too hot. "Easy," Ray told him, following him in and sinking down easily into the water. Fraser settled down with somewhat more difficulty next to him, stretching out full-length on his side. Fraser's eyes slid closed, and Ray saw the muscles of his jaw clench as the water lapped against the scores on his back.   
  
"Easy," Ray said again, rubbing lightly at his arm in calm encouragement, knowing that Fraser would need a few minutes to adjust to the warmth of the water. Fraser's body relaxed in stages against him, and Ray smiled, feeling the tension drain out of him. After a moment, Fraser's eyes opened again, and they gazed up at him with a completely luxurious air.   
  
"Nice," Fraser murmured, smiling contentedly.   
  
Ray felt his lips twitch in response. "I'm glad." He reached for Fraser then and pulled him close, and Fraser folded against him instantly, tucking his head underneath Ray's chin and letting out a heavy sigh. Ray lay back against the wall of the tub, drawing Fraser with him, and settled down to let the water work its magic and soothe the aches out of both their bodies.   
  
Fraser was a heavy weight against him, and he hmmmed softly as Ray's fingers carded through his hair. It was rather like stroking a giant, sleepy cat. Ray stared up at the ceiling and smiled, relishing the feel of the body in his arms. Sated and well-used, Fraser was utterly sensuous, with no controls to hide behind. No controls at all.   
  
Just as he felt Fraser was beginning to fall asleep on his chest, Ray nudged him upward and reached for the soft cloth he'd laid over the side of the tub. Fraser grumbled in mild protest but moved to obey him, rolling over so Ray could take a look at his back.   
  
"I'm fine, Ray," he said, sounding affronted that Ray would even feel the need to look. "You wouldn't hurt me."   
  
Ray had to bite back a laugh at the incongruity of the statement. Nevertheless, Fraser seemed to be telling the truth. The shallow cuts had stopped bleeding some time ago, and Ray used the washcloth to wipe away the dried blood from around their edges, being careful to steer clear of the larger welts. Fraser sucked in his breath hard when he touched some places, but on the whole, there didn't seem to be any damage that time alone wouldn't heal.   
  
Satisfied, Ray stood and grabbed the shampoo from the ledge behind them. Fraser acquiesced to the indulgence of having Ray wash his hair, then watched with heavy-lidded eyes while Ray washed his own. Ray wiped them both down efficiently with a soaped-up washcloth, then reached for one of the huge Egyptian cotton towels from the rack next to the tub. "All right," he said, gazing down at Fraser sternly. "Up and at 'em."   
  
Fraser cast him a dark look, obviously perfectly content inside the warm cocoon of the water, but Ray knew better than to let either of them fall asleep there. Funny how eroding Fraser's rigid control seemed to erode his common sense as well.   
  
All in all, Ray considered it a night well-spent.   
  
He helped Fraser step out of the tub, then wrapped him loosely in the towel. Grabbing one of his own, he used it to vigorously dry his hair. Fraser's eyes were warm and soft as they looked at him, and Ray couldn't help but lean in to kiss him. Fraser's tongue tasted like pure heat next to his own.   
  
Fraser followed him into the main room, where Ray immediately set about replacing their various toys into the box and then lifting the box off the bed to place it out of the way against the wall. He stripped the bed of its sheets and threw them in the corner, then remade it with the fresh sheets that Fraser had set out at the start of the evening.   
  
When he was done, he found Fraser leaning sideways against the door jamb leading into the bathroom, gazing at him with smiling eyes.   
  
Ray looked a question at him, and Fraser grinned. "You look ... very domestic, Ray."   
  
Ray's eyes narrowed dangerously. "Think so, do you?" Despite the inherent threat in the words, he had to laugh. "Get your ass over here, Fraser."   
  
Fraser pushed away from the door and came toward him with easy compliance, still grinning. Ray shook his head with self- suffering amusement and moved toward the open box against the wall, crouching down to reach inside and grope through the mountain of leather for the small bottle of antibiotic that he knew was in there.   
  
Fraser was already lying on his stomach on the bed when Ray returned, waiting for him. Ray sat down next to him and rubbed at his shoulder encouragingly.   
  
"I know, I know," Fraser said into his pillow, his voice muffled. "It's going to hurt like a bitch."   
  
That startled a laugh out of him. "Yes," Ray said, realizing all over again how very much he loved this man. "I daresay it will."   
  
Nevertheless, Fraser made little protest as Ray carefully smeared the ointment over the welts on his back, and only slightly more when Ray moved on to the open cuts. The welts, Ray knew, would be healed up fairly quickly, but it was the scores that would serve as a reminder of this encounter for some time to come. They had the weekend off now, but Ray tried to imagine Fraser putting on his red serge come Monday, making an effort to retreat again behind the Mountie facade that they had just worked so hard to break, trying not to wince as the fabric of his clothes brushed across these wounds, right here where Ray's fingers were brushing now. The thought filled Ray with a feeling that was suspiciously unlike remorse.   
  
"Ray?"   
  
Ray looked up, realizing that he'd been stroking the same portion of Fraser's back for some time now. "Yeah, Benny?"   
  
Fraser didn't look up from his pillow. "Promise me something."   
  
Ray felt his brows draw together, and he hesitated for a moment while he twisted the cap back onto the tube of antibiotic and tossed it neatly back into the box against the wall. "Promise you what?"   
  
"Promise me you won't start regretting things in the morning this time."   
  
Ray froze, feeling as if his heart were trying to claw its way out through his throat. After a moment, he let out his breath in a sigh. "Benny..."   
  
"Please, Ray." And now Fraser did turn to look at him. His expression was troubled. "I wish I could ... not ask you for this, because I know it hurts you. I try, and I try, but in the end I just ... give in. Because I want you to do this for me, Ray. I *need* you to do this for me. So you don't have to feel guilty, okay?"   
  
Ray stared at him, his mouth going dry. How to explain to Fraser that that wasn't the problem at all? He *knew* Fraser wanted this, needed it, and if it brought him some measure of peace, some measure of contentment, then Ray was willing to do it for him. The problem was that Ray actually seemed to *like* doing it to him, and what kind of a lover did that make him? What kind of a *man* did it make him?   
  
It was an effort to swallow past the lump in his throat, but somehow he managed. "Benny, I know you wanted this. So don't ever feel guilty about asking me, all right? It's just..." He trailed off again, not knowing how to put his troubled thoughts into words.   
  
But as always, Benny seemed to be two steps ahead of him, knowing what Ray was thinking and feeling before Ray himself was fully aware of it. "It's okay if you like it, too, Ray."   
  
Ray's heart was pounding in his chest. He felt heat rise in his cheeks and wished he could look away, but Fraser's gaze held him. Finally, he said, "What the hell kind of friend am I to enjoy doing that to you?" His voice was hoarse. "I mean, look at you. *Shit*, Benny."   
  
Fraser's gaze was soothing. "It's all right, Ray." He leaned up to touch his lips to Ray's and just held them there, breathing softly into his mouth. After a moment, he touched their foreheads together and rubbed up against him gently. "It's okay."   
  
Ray closed his eyes, wondering if it truly could be okay, if maybe he wasn't the monster that he seemed to be. He wondered if they should try doing this more often, when the tensions weren't risen quite so high between them, so they could find this kind of connection out of something other than guilty need.   
  
Fraser's fingers were warm against his face. "I love you, Ray," he said, and his voice was very serious.   
  
The words moved through Ray like a warm tide, chasing the lingering chill away. He opened his eyes and found Fraser gazing up at him, all warm eyes and soft smile and welcoming, loving acceptance of who he was. Of who they both were.   
  
"I love you too, Benny." Ray sank back down against Fraser side, curling up close against him, and let his eyes close to slits, enjoying the sight of the dying firelight dancing across his lover's skin. The fire had nearly burnt itself out by now, and its light had taken on a dark umber glow, deepening the color of Fraser's hair and eyes.   
  
Fraser held his gaze from just inches away and sighed softly, radiating waves of sheer, exhausted contentment. "I love what you do for me, Ray," he said, sounding sleepy, as if it were a supreme effort of will to stay awake long enough to say the words. And yet it seemed vitally important to him that he *did* say them.   
  
Ray reached for Fraser's hand under the pillow between them, twining their fingers together. If Fraser had the courage to admit it, then maybe, just maybe, he did, too. After a moment, he drew in a small breath and said, "I love what you let me do for you, Benny."   
  
Fraser's eyes, which had been drifting shut, shot open again at those words. Ray held his breath, irrationally terrified of what Fraser's reaction would be to his confession.   
  
Fraser held his gaze for a long moment, and then he smiled. Ray felt the tension drain out of him as if it had been siphoned away.   
  
Ray grinned, feeling strangely light-headed. "Go to sleep, Benny. We'll talk more in the morning."   
  
Fraser's smile deepened, but then his eyes were closing again obediently. Ray knew he had to be both mentally and physically exhausted, and the thought made his own smile soften. Ray felt a strange sort of pride in being the one who had exhausted him.   
  
If Fraser wanted welts to wear underneath his uniform to remind him that he didn't always have to be the one in control, then maybe Ray could convince him to wear other things as well. Ray lifted a finger to touch the black collar around his lover's neck, and the sight of the dark leather against that pale skin caused his heartbeat to spike slightly.   
  
"Mine," Ray whispered, leaning in to kiss Fraser lightly behind the ear. Fraser didn't stir.   
  
Still smiling softly to himself, Ray nuzzled in possessively against the side of Fraser's neck, and finally let himself fall asleep.


End file.
